


Where The Love Light Gleams

by whisperedwords



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Based Off The 3x09 Promo, Canon Compliant, F/M, Forgiveness, Please Lord Give Me The Canon Of My Dreams, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 11:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8712667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperedwords/pseuds/whisperedwords
Summary: “You know? I mean, fuck, Caitlin. He did this to me—to us—and we’re supposed to just forgive him? Just like that?”(Or, you know, the holiday angst-fluff-canon mashup we deserve.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> So Caitlin makes it snow (possibly for Cisco) in 3x09, it looks like. (At least, you know, according to the promo. Which may just be lying to hide more angst for us.) This is my dream scene, because my kids deserve to be happy and in love and TOGETHER IN CANON EVEN THOUGH IT'S NEVER GONNA HAPPEN.
> 
> title from "i'll be home for christmas" by whoever tf recorded the original version.

“I’m sorry.” His voice is soft, fragile, and Caitlin wouldn’t have even known he’d said anything if her ears hadn’t been attuned to his voice—to his every move, every thought. Her partner in crime, they’d joked once (what feels like a  _lifetime_  ago, now), hence the reason she knows everything about him.

Well. At least, that’s the reason she tells herself she knows. She  _has_  to know these things: height, weight, blood type, facial features, the way his voice softens when he’s upset but can’t say why, the feeling of his thumb brushing against her cold fingers—it’s for science. It’s all for science. (She can make that excuse, right?)

“What?” She knows Cisco knows she heard him, but says it anyway—maybe to play along with the innocence of their evening in the West house, maybe to convince herself he hadn’t sounded as broken as she thought he did.

“I’m sorry, Cait.” Ah, there it is. She turns her head, perched on the couch’s left arm, and looks as Cisco stares out the window into the dark night. It’s cold (apparently—though she’s stopped being able to tell that) and she can see a little bit of frost building at the corner of the glass pane, reaching out but not quite able to expand beyond its small area. Cisco’s not looking at her—she knows what’s coming next isn’t good. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” She stands, now—almost stumbles on her heels, but makes her way towards her best friend. He still hasn’t turned and looked at her. The slight panic towards the back of her throat begins to rise. “Cisco, what do you mean?”

“I can’t pretend like everything’s—” He gestures frustratedly, and she nods. “You know? I mean,  _fuck_ , Caitlin. He did this to me—to  _us_ —and we’re supposed to just forgive him? Just like that?” She knows exactly what he means. If she’s being honest, this isn’t the first time she’s thought about this. But Killer Frost took over last time her anger really was unlocked, and she refuses to let that happen again. And, if Caitlin’s  _really_  being honest, she’s forgiven him already. Barry might not be the best decision-maker in Central City, but he’s got such a big heart. And he loves them— _all_ of them, her, Cisco, Joe, Wally, Iris, even HR—more than he probably even knows what to do with. He deserves forgiveness, even in the face of all this. So she rests her hand on Cisco’s elbow gently, heart open. He doesn’t flinch.

“He’s your best friend, Cisco.” Nothing. She didn’t really expect anything from that, anyway. “And no one is asking you to—to  _absolve_  him of all he’s done. We would never.  _I_  would never.” Her grasp on his elbow tightens a little, and she feels him sway a little closer to her. “But he—he didn’t do this out of spite. Or hatred. He loves you, Cisco, and seeing you like this is killing him.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it should.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Cisco’s face folds a little. “Maybe I do.” There’s a moment of silence between them, then, and when Caitlin looks back, there are tears spilling down his face. “God, I wish I could hate him for all this. I wish I could keep being angry. But I just…” He trails off, and the quiet sobs shake his shoulders a little. Caitlin feels her heart shatter just watching him. Quickly, she wraps him in a warm embrace, presses her lips to the side of his head.

Time is funny, she thinks—a few years ago, they’d switched positions, and  _she_  was the one having a breakdown about someone who’d died. ( _Ronnie_. The name still leaves a coppery taste in her mouth, one she wishes she could forget.) A few years ago,  _he’d_  been the person that held her together, kept her from completely falling apart. And now here they are.

“You don’t need to forgive him all the way, Cisco,” she hums, her lips still close to his face. “But you can’t cling to all this anger forever. You saw what it did to me. And if that were to happen to you…” She’s the one trailing off, now. Again—funny, how they’re so good at role reversal. He doesn’t say anything, but Caitlin feels his arms tighten a little around her, feels the slight shake of his shoulders gradually melt away into stillness. The air in the living room is soothing, and Cisco is warm,  _so_ warm in her arms; she feels the coldness in her mind start to thaw out a bit.

“I’ll sleep on it.” His voice is muffled against her shoulder.

“Hm?”

“The forgiveness thing. I’ll sleep on it.” Cisco pulls back from her embrace (without letting go of her waist, something at the back of her mind notes) and gives her a brief, small smile. His eyes are a little red around the edges, but they’re softer than they’ve been in a while. Caitlin smiles back, something warm building in her chest. She’s missed this—missed them. All the drama, all the disasters of the past few weeks…and all she’d needed ( _really_  needed) was a moment like this. With Cisco.

“It’s awfully cold outside,” he says, interrupting her thoughts. One arm loosens and falls away from her, leaving them in a sort-of-awkward side-hug. He casts a look up at her. “But there’s no snow…”

“Too bad,” she replies languidly, flexing the fingers on one hand. “Guess we won’t have a white Christmas after all.” Cisco rolls his eyes. Caitlin laughs.

“Any chance?” He bats his eyes at her and her laughter quiets a little. She always forgets how handsome he is, especially when he wants to be…

“Fine, fine.” In mock-disgruntlement, she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and raises her hand slightly—the only way she’s learned how to channel her powers so far is through physical actions. (Cisco removes one of the power-dampening cuffs from her wrist, which she silently thanks him for.)

“Snow!” HR gasps from somewhere behind them a few moments later. The chorus of Team Flash voices that follow are cheery and joyful, and Caitlin feels that warmth again in her stomach. She opens her eyes and sees Cisco gazing at her, the small smile from before now out full force. He takes her other hand in his and squeezes it, sending a tingle up her spine.

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” he drawls, and Caitlin laughs quietly.

“Ahh, it’s nothing, really.“ She exaggerates a humble shrug, and Cisco giggles, his grip on her hand tighter. It’s nice,  _so_  nice, and she just wants to freeze time, in this moment right here—if the rest of her life could exist in tonight, she’d be the happiest person alive. She sways a little back into Cisco, and he nudges her a bit, which makes her turn a little more towards him.

“Y’know, we  _are_  standing underneath the mistletoe…” He waggles his eyebrows at her, and her quiet laughter disappears immediately. She’d like nothing more than to kiss him, right now, so she nods a little, half-smiles like it’s nothing to her, and leans in. Her mind is racing a thousand miles a minute, and she can  _feel_ the waves of heat coming off of her best friend, can practically taste the way his breath smells of cinnamon and spiked eggnog and something else, something  _so_  very Cisco, and she wants nothing more than to just close the gap—

A collective urgent beeping noise immediately sounds throughout the room, sending all parties stumbling backwards in shock. Cisco pulls out his phone, and the look on his face is one of disappointment and irritation. “We got ourselves a meta out wreaking havoc on CCPD.” Caitlin releases the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and Barry immediately is next to them, a panicked look on his face.

“How bad are we talking, Cisco?” He asks. Cisco pauses, looks at his phone again. Mouths ‘ _fuck’_.

“Hope you didn’t make plans for later this evening,” he replies drily. “This one’ll take a while.” 

 


End file.
